Want to Play a Game?
by Maya Koppori
Summary: Actually a non-SBURB drabbleverse, brought on by my love for Li'l Sebastian and longing for platonic Dirk and Jane. Loosely based off of several fanarts and comics that really touched my heart. When Dirk and Jane meet face to face for the first time! What could possibly go wrong?
1. Chapter 1

**Well hello there. It's been a while since I put anything up for publishing, and I'm really sorry to those of you who followed some of my other uncompleted stories. Nothing seems to be up for finishing, I'm afraid, at least for now. I should get back around to them this summer. Huge thanks for your patience. **

**This little doodad was supposed to be a oneshot, but turned into four chapters, with this one taking up roughly half of the storyline. The middle two are just filler, really, but they happened. I'll be posting them once I get a feel for how people are reacting. **

**This is a non-game AU, as you'll see. It's also the first Homestuck piece I've ever published, but 4-13 seemed like a good time to start.**

**All credit to Andrew Hussie, of course.**

* * *

You straighten the last imperfection in your kitchen and sigh, stepping back to survey your work. It's spotless, so spotless that even your father can't do anything more to it. You know he'll be so proud of you.

"Dad, I'm finished in the kitchen," you holler, sweeping your hair behind your ears. "Have you heard from Mr. Strider?"

"Not yet, Jane!" Your father's voice wafts in from the front porch. "Don't worry; they'll be here in good time."

You shake your head and put away your dishcloth. Dirk's brother is a notorious tardy-pants and you both know it. He has a habit of claiming that whatever time he arrives is exactly right, never too late or too early.

You blame Hollywood superstardom. Everyone waits up for a Strider. Including you, it seems. They were supposed to be here an hour ago, and you've been obsessively scampering around the house in wait for the sound of-

The dull rumble of a car rolling to a stop in your driveway. A honk followed by the engine cutting and a dual slamming of car doors. Your heart in your throat, you rush to the door and look out.

It's really him. You can see the shades around your dad and Mr. Strider hugging on the lawn. They move and suddenly he's looking right at you, and you're running as fast as your thirteen-year-old legs can carry you. You almost hesitate before you get all the way there but he lifts his arms and you power through to tackle him in a hug. "Dirk!"

His arms wrap around your back and squeeze like he's trying to make sure you're really there. You know you're doing the same, drinking in his smell, the touch of his shirt, how warm he is and how bony.

"Hiya, Janey," he says, and his drawl rumbles under your ear. Gracious, he's so much taller than you are! You pull back and beam at him, unashamed when your glasses fog over just a bit from you getting misty-eyed.

Your name is Jane Crocker and you're meeting your best friend in person for the very first time. You are allowed to shed a few darn tears!

"Nice to meetcha, li'l Crocker," Dirk's brother interjects. At first you had trouble believing that Dirk's brother was really _the _Dave Strider, but after he got his webcam all set up and caught his bro at a good time, he sat you down for something of an interview and golly did you believe him after that! It almost embarrasses you really, how cynical you were back then. It turns out that you could have just asked your dad. Apparently, Mr. Strider was a protégé of Poppop's!

"A pleasure, Mr. Strider," you reply with a smile. You take his hand to shake it, but it comes loose and falls into yours!

"Ah!" You toss it to Dirk who passes it back to his brother. "I-I'm sorry, Mr. Strider!"

He chuckles. "Calm down. It's a prank. Your granddad got me with that one the first time I met him, bless his old soul." He graces you with a little half smile. "Mr. Strider's my dad, kiddo. Call me Dave." Dave shakes your hand again for good measure, and you realize you've been duped.

"Okay," you say around a giggle fit. "Was that one of your ironic flapdoodles?"

"Actually it was only about a four on the irony scale. The rest was sincere," Dirk informs you. Dave nods his approval. "Bro hates being called Mr. Strider. But what can you do?" He waves his hand dismissively. "Actors, the press, agents- they all do it, all day long."

"Well you're certainly welcome to stay for a while if you wish, Dave," Dad says, only emphasizing the name a little bit. It brings that half smile back though so you're glad he did.

"Nah, I got some stuff to do. We'll catch up later, James." Dave ruffles Dirk's spiked hair with the fake hand. "Be good, little brother. Big Bro'll be back in a little while."

"Old man," you hear Dirk grumble. "And hey, I need the thing in the back."

"Oooh, yeah." Dave raises his shades and smirks at the two of you. "Get ready to be astounded, Crocker Jr. Dirky boy's been working on this doohickey for months-"

"Bro."

"- I'm talkin' all nighters like you never seen, I had to pry him off his workbench with a freakin' crowbar-"

"Dave!"

"-all for his friend, so I'm thinking, man, this girl must really be something else-"

"David Elizabeth Strider," Dirk growls. "Open the gosh darned trunk of your stupid car before I curse in front of Jane's dad."

Dave put his hands up in surrender and held down a button on his car key. The trunk beeped and popped open, and Dirk hurried to grab his backpack and a large box. You're incredibly curious now. "Thanks, Bro."

"Sure thing. Can't have your foul mouth around my favorite Crockers." Dave gives your dad one more clap on the shoulder. "James. I'll be back in a couple hours if you're okay with Dirk staying."

"It's a pleasure." Dad smiles at Dirk in a fatherly way. "Well, if you two would like, I could whip us up a snack. Care to wait upstairs in Jane's room?"

"Sounds great, Mr. Crocker." Dirk waves once to his brother and follows you into the house. You leave your father in the kitchen and head upstairs. You've never been more grateful for the fact thatyou've cleaned up your room. You let Dirk in first and follow, leaving the door cracked just because you know dad would want you to, even if it is just Dirk up here with you.

"If there's anything messy, ignore it," you order.

"Yes, ma'am."Dirk stands in the middle of your room, rotating to see the whole thing. "So this is the real Crocker crib." He sets his bag and box on the floor and joins you to sit on the edge your bed. "It's a lot bigger in 3D."

You blush and laugh awkwardly. Gosh, you can still hardly believe he's actually here. You've talked about meeting up for ages, but now that it's actually happening you don't know how to act. "Well, of course it does. You've only ever seen the wall behind my computer!"

He chuckles again and your pulse thrums against your clasped fingers. Your eyes are still partially on the box that rests on top of his backpack. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"So what is Dave doing up here, anyway?" you ask, unable to curb your curiosity. It must be something big.

He laughs. "Don't get your hopes up. Bro's just looking at some scenery to get ideas for a possible Twilight spoof. Like _Vampires Suck, _but better and completely ironic."

Dirk picks up your old stuffed bunny from the head of the bed and rolls its velvet ear between his fingers. "You sure do like rabbits. Jesus, how many do you have in here?"

You're about to object, but you realize he's right. You've never noticed before, but out of all of the animals featured in the stuffed toys, decorations, and pictures in your room, rabbits are the most common. You count at least ten within seconds.

"Well, what of it, buster?" you ask, crossing your arms. "Am I not allowed?"

He stares at you from behind his glasses before jumping like someone stuck a pin in him. Darn those shades, you can never tell just where his eyes are. "Shit, Jane, no! I mean..." For once in his life, Dirk Strider doesn't have a comeback. You try not to take satisfaction out of that. "Sorry," he says. He drops the toy and scratches the back of his head. "I'm kind of rambling here. Just." He opens his arms. "Mind if I have another hug, Janey?"

Confused but grateful, you nod and lean into him again. Of course he's a little nervous. You sure are! And hugging like this is very nice after only seeing each other through the computer. You sigh and wonder if you'll ever get to hug Roxy or Jake. California was a big enough stretch, but Jake's on a remote island somewhere and Roxy travels with her mom- there's no telling if this will ever happen again.

Dirk tightens his hold around you and leans in close. "Jane, don't freak out. Get under the bed and stay there," he hisses in your ear.

"What?" You frown and try to pull away but Dirk holds you to his chest unrelentingly. His arms are shaking but his grip is strong, all but crushing you.

"Be quiet. Just do it when I let go."

"Dirk, come on." The Strider irony has gone too far this time, and quite frankly you're frightened. "Stop being silly. What are you talking about?"

"Jesus Christ." Dirk lowers his forehead to your shoulder and your heart just about stops. "Jane Crocker, trust me for two seconds here. Your dad needs you to, alright?"

You nod, trying to calm your breaths as they quicken. Dirk is serious. There's something wrong, something to do with dad. "Okay," you whisper.

"Good!" He springs back from you, bearing a smile that's too wide and obviously fake because you know him. "Just let me get your present out!" He slides off your comforter and you swing your feet to the floor. He turns his back to the door in order to pick up your present. Your breath catches when you hear a creak through the cracked door.

Taking a deep breath, you tuck and roll to the other side of the bed and drop to the floor. You hear muffled curses and your door slams against the wall.

You peer under the bed. There are Dirk's bright sneakers, but there are two other pairs now. Black, dulled with dirt. They circle Dirk and you hear low, quick exchanges before they're whirling around the room. Metal clangs against metal and you cringe, curling in on yourself to make yourself as small as possible.

Dirk's instructions come back to you._Under the bed. _

As you're shimmying under the bed frame, one of the pairs of sneakers disappears and the mattress bends at an alarming angle.

"Oof!" It hits you in the back of the head, smashing your face into the hardwood. Your glasses splinter from the impact. You clamp your eyes shut and try to crawl blind, but a large hand closes over your ankle and you scream. "Dirk!"

A thud from across the room. The hand rips away from your foot and you pull it in to join the other. A man's voice yelling and then screaming in pain.

Silence.

A sob builds in your throat but you cram it back down. You aren't going to cry. You're pretty sure you know what just happened, and you've got the mangrit to handle it.

"Jane." Dirk's voice sounds from somewhere in front of you, soft enough that you aren't startled. "You can come out now. It's okay."

You don't move. "I can't see," you whisper. "My glasses..."

"Just crawl through to the other side. I won't move until you're out. Can you do that for me, Janey?"

You're starting to see spots from how tightly your eyes are shut. "Yes," you say. Slowly but surely, you crawl on your belly until Dirk tells you to stop. The next second he's in front of you again, alerting you to his presence before touching your back.

"Sit up," he orders. Fumbling, you push yourself into a sitting position. Not breaking contact, Dirk trails his hand up to your face. "I'm gonna take off your glasses. There shouldn't be any shards, but don't open your eyes yet."

"Okay."

He removes your glasses and brushes his fingers around your eyes, checking for any lingering glass. "Okay. You can open your eyes now."

By the time you do as he says he's several feet away from you, hands on his sword and where you can see them. Of course he has it with him. He _always _has it with him. You nod at him and he sets his sword on the floor. Everything is a blur, but you can see enough to spot the man on your floor. You know there's another one somewhere behind you and to the side.

"Get an ID on them," you say. You don't know where that cool edge in your voice is coming from. You're frightened out of your skull, but for some reason your body isn't feeling it anymore.

Dirk holds out his hand, one step ahead of you. You take the crumpled business card and squint at it. It's from a local mom and pop bakery.

"Long term employees," Dirk says. He's running a search on his iPhone. "Motive?"

"Desperation," you decide. "They're going out of business soon."

"Yup, that'll do it."

You take another deep breath. "Thank you. I'm sorry you had to do that."

Dirk almost drops his phone. He pushes his shades up and states at you, his honey colored eyes blurring across his face. "Jesus, Jane. I knew this shit happened every once in a while, but this is insane. Don't be thanking me for that. I should have had it finished weeks ago."

You blink. "Had what finished?"

"Your present." He reaches over to the box on the floor beside you. "Remember? I told you that if you ever needed any help, anything at all, that I'd be there?"

"I didn't mean for you to fight off assassins for me!" you exclaim. There's the panic. The fear you're still feeling.

"I know." Dirk lifts the lid on the box, revealing a child sized robot. You jump when you realize that it's in the shape of a rabbit. His chest plate sports a hat like the one on Dirk's t-shirt, but this one is blue. "I know I can't be here all the time- the statistics on me actually being here during an attack are astronomical, you wouldn't even believe it- so I made someone who could. He'll protect you." A flip of some switch or another later and the little guy is active. He looks around the room before focusing on you. "Little buddy, this is Jane. Remember? I told you about her. She needs some TLC." The little guy toddles up to you like he understands. He pats your hand with his tiny paw and you pat his head.

"You'll need to name him," Dirk is saying. You're only half listening. The bunny bot is warm to the touch. It feels like holding a little kid. "He'll respond to nearly a hundred commands already, and he's programmed to learn more. It'll be easier if you call him something other than "defense bot prototype" when you talk to him."

"How about... Li'l Sebastian?" you suggest. The robot's long ears perk up. He emits a soft beep.

"That might just be the greatest name ever said," Dirk agrees. "Now, watch. Li'l Sebastian, ready stance."

The little bot performs an acrobatic pirouette and springs away from you. He stands like a statue, waiting.

"Present arms."

He pulls a katana similar to Dirk's seemingly from nowhere and holds it in both hands. He waits again.

Dirk points to the men on the floor. "Neutralize threat."

Another beep. Li'l Sebastian sheathes his sword, moving instead with a coil of rope. He trusses the would-be assassins expertly and leaves them bound at your feet. He salutes you and waits again.

"Good boy," you tell him. He beeps and all but plops into your lap, offering his head to pet again. "Dirk, I love him! He's fantastic!" You shake your head. "Did you really spend all that time making him for me?"

Dirk almost looks offended, but that can't be right. Striders are never offended. They're too darned deep in their ironic pride and aloofness. It must be your eyes playing tricks on you. "Course I did. I promised I'd help you out of your jams, and Dave'd have my hide if I went around breaking promises to my friends. He's just missing one thing. I was going to let you do the honors later."

A small pair of pointed glasses is pressed into your hands. "They're designed to report any sign of danger. It'll send a message to me, your dad, the police, anything." Dirk pauses before continuing, "And if you're just away from a net connection and wanna talk, he's a direct communication link to my AR and Pesterchum account."

"Nifty." You beckon the rabbit to turn around and face you. "Here you go, Li'l Seb. Try these on." You attach the red specs and they glow. You smile. "Maybe you should try red, Dirk. They're very flattering."

"Jane? Mr. Strider?" A groan comes from your doorway.

"Dad!" You jump up and run to him, fluttering your hands uselessly. How could you forget about your dad? How would those brutes have gotten to you without somehow getting through him? "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

He shakes his head. "Knocked me in the back of the head with my own rolling pin," he mumbles. "I'm so sorry, Jane."

"Should I phone the authorities, sir?" Dirk asks. He stands and nudges one of the men with his foot. "If we do, I know Dave would ask us to try and keep it as quiet as possible. The press would eat this up."

"Not just for you, either," you groan. "And just when things settled down from the bake sale incident!"

Your dad looks between the two of you and nods slowly. "Alright. Dirk, do what you need to do. I'll phone your brother and tell him to return at his earliest convenience."

"And I'm going to get you an ice pack," you interject. "Come on, Li'l Seb. You can help me."

Li'l Sebastian wraps his tiny hand around your finger and follows you down to the kitchen.

After what seems like hours of police reports, tears, and Dave wigging the heck out, the five of you are finally left alone for the evening. You and Dirk take the couch, with Li'l Seb rotating between your laps, while dad and Dave take chairs by the fireplace. Your dad insists that the Striders stay the night in your home, and none of you object.

"I'm frightened," your dad admits. "It would mean the world to me to have everyone close for a little while."

You aww and coo and generally poke fun at his sentimentality, but your heart's not in it because you feel the same way. Your new little buddy eventually settles down- Dirk calls it "sleep mode"- and curls up in your lap. He's proven to be incredibly helpful already. He mended the crack in your glasses and now they're good as new. You find yourself nodding off as well, only hesitating a second before letting your head fall against Dirk's arm. Despite the chaos of the day, you couldn't wish for a better ending to it.

A brisk knock sounds at the door and you all jump. Li'l Sebastian and the Striders immediately have their weapons drawn and at the ready.

"Boys," your dad snaps. "No swords in the house."

"But dad-"

"No buts, Jane. We have a visitor, and until we are sure that whoever it is means us harm, we will not threaten them."

He gives the others a look, and they reluctantly stow their weapons. Dirk mutters a command to Li'l Seb that has him crouching between you and the door. It seems innocent enough, but you can see the metallic joints quaking with anticipation. The knock comes again, louder and more impatient.

All eyes are on your dad. He pads across the room in his sock feet and opens the door. The line of his shoulders drops in relief. "Constance!"

You let out the breath you were holding and pet Li'l Sebastian. "It's okay," you whisper. "It's just Aunt Constance." Well, she's more like your great-great something or other. She raised your Poppop! But she really doesn't look a day over forty, and it makes you feel weird to call her anything else. But the rabbit doesn't relax. If anything, he tenses up further. Dirk is a statue next to you. "Dirk? What is it?"

He turns to look at you and even through his shades you see the gleam of fury in his eyes. Dave reflects his posture. He makes a visible effort to calm down. "It's nothing, Janey. I just didn't expect to be meeting your aunt so soon."

You pin him with your best "come clean, buster" detective look. There's no way Dirk and Dave would be nervous around celebrities- they're both famous in their own rights. So why are they getting so worked up over the baroness of Betty Crocker Corp?

"James," Aunt Constance says coolly. "The police contacted me about Jane."

"I'm fine, Aunt Constance!" you chirp. "I'm just lucky Dirk was here, or my goose would've been cooked!"

Your aunt doesn't answer you, but turns instead to Dave. "He's yours, then, Strider? How could I expect anything less?"

"Oh, don't worry. We won't be here long. Come on, Dirk."

"Yeah." Dirk shoulders his backpack and hands you a remote control. "Here, Jane. Homing device for Seb." He's barely keeping himself in check. Li'l Sebastian still won't move.

"What's this?" Your dad looks as confused as you feel. "Dave, you know Constance? And I thought the two of you were staying the night..."

Aunt Constance's airy laugh cuts him off. "Oh, James, David is a good old friend of mine. I'm sure something's just come up in the world of the rich and famous. Am I right?"

"Absolutely," Dave growls. His knuckles pop from the strength with which he clenches his fists. "Something urgent about a murder and a _witch_."

And then you see it. Behind your aunt's confident gaze, you see the same hatred in the Striders' eyes mirrored back with a hundred times more intensity. But it's only there for an instance, and now she's smiling again.

"What a shame," she simpers. "In these troubling times, friends should stick together. You never know when another... Incident could occur."

"Dirk!" Dave barks. "Now." He brushes by Aunt Constance and you swear you hear him mutter, "witch."

Dirk nods, spinning you around to give you one last hug. "I'm sorry, Jane," he whispers. "I can't stay here anymore. It's not safe. Promise you'll keep Seb with you."

"Dirk, what are you-?"

He grips your shoulders. "Promise me!"

"I promise?"

Dirk sighs and draws back to look at you. "I can't really say much right now, but you can relax for tonight. They weren't here for you." He waves goodbye and sprints after his brother. And just like that, your best friend is gone as quickly as he came.

Dread shudders through your body. What does he mean by that? There have been enough attempts on your life to fill up a whole series of mystery novels. Is Dirk saying that this particular fiasco's directive was _him_? What kind of bakers would try to assassinate the prodigy brother of a Hollywood superstar?

"What a shame they had to leave so soon," Aunt Constance sighs. She finally acknowledges you with a smile. "I'm so glad you're safe, Jane."

She moves to hug you but Li'l Sebastian straightens from his crouch and snaps into a defensive stance. "Ugh," your aunt grimaces. "What is... that?"

You resist the urge to glare at her. Why is she being so mean to Li'l Seb? "He's my friend," you say defensively. "Dirk made him for me." Li'l Seb moves behind you to cling to your leg. You have a feeling he's trying to look as cute and defenseless as possible.

Aunt Constance tenses and backs away from you. "I see." She glares at your father. "I'm disappointed, James. What kind of home are you running?"

"E-Excuse me?" The sudden change in mood has him awash in stern fatherly confusion. "Constance, I'm fully capable of protecting my daughter."

"Obviously." She shakes her head with a pitying look. "James, you really should take me up on my offer."

Your dad draws himself up to all of his five and a half feet in height. "I've given you my answer, and nothing is going to change my mind. Jane is not taking over the company."

"What?!" you blurt out. You haven't talked about inheriting CrockerCorp since you were little. You didn't know Aunt Constance still wanted you to.

"It's her destiny, James!"

"She can choose her own destiny!"

"Then let her choose, instead of hiding her away!" Aunt Constance roars. "She should have come to live with me years ago so I could train her!"

Suddenly their anger is directed at you and you don't know how to breathe. Your dad has never raised his voice like that. Not _ever_. And now Aunt Constance wants to take you away? How long have they even been fighting about that?

Li'l Sebastian's tiny paw reaches up and touches your hand, reminding that he's there, and by extension, Dirk is too.

We've got your back, he seems to be saying.

You straighten and meet your aunt's eyes. "Aunt Constance, I'm really honored, but I don't think running a business is something I should be thinking about right now. In fact, it causes more trouble than anything. I'm staying here with dad. That's my decision, and I really don't see how you have any say in that in the first place."

Aunt Constance's face turns fuchsia. "Fine. Then let the die fall where it will. Just remember that I gave you a choice." Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she stomps out of your house.

You pick up Li'l Seb. "Dad, I'm going to bed."

"Sweetheart, I-"

"Can we talk about this in the morning?" You squeeze Seb close. "It's been a long day."

"Of course we can." Dad smiles at you as you pass him on the way to the stairs. "And Jane?"

"Yes?"

He smoothes your hair from your forehead. "I'm so proud of you. You're a very strong young woman."

You smile tiredly. "I learned from the best, dad." He nods at you before letting go, and you slowly trudge up the stairs. Your legs feel like lead, and Li'l Seb's weight doesn't help. He jumps down from your arms and pulls you impatiently.

"Alright, alright," you yawn. Goodness, you're all tuckered out. "Let's get you to bed."

You set up a nice little cardboard box with your old baby blankets at the foot of your bed. You tuck him in, and he drops into sleep mode. You change into your pajamas (Dirk assured you several times that there was no chance of Li'l Seb's infrared camera videoing anything private whatsoever) and crawl under your covers.

It's only a few minutes before a hydraulic whoosh sounds above you. You open your bleary eyes to see Li'l Seb's shades glowing red in the darkness.

"What is it?" you ask, rubbing your eyes. He beeps and a message flashes orange at you on his glasses.

_TT: Hi, Jane._

You laugh and wave at him. "Hi, Dirk."

The words fade and are almost instantly replaced.

_TT: I'm sorry._

"Dirk..." You stop yourself.

_The statistics on me actually being here during an attack are astronomical, you wouldn't even believe it. _

An attack. On _you,_at least. But what about an attack on Dirk? His presence seemed pretty likely. In which case, someone was after him, too!

Your voice is small in the darkness as you whisper, "Who's trying to hurt you?"

Li'l Sebastian pats your hand and his glasses flash.

_TT: Go to sleep. Seb will patrol. _

"You said I didn't need to worry," you grumble.

_TT: You don't. That's my job. _

You sigh and give Li'l Seb one more pat on the head. "Ok. Goodnight."

_TT: Goodnight, Janey. _

The rabbit holds your hand until you fall into a restful sleep. You know you'll be safe, if only for tonight.

* * *

**Feedback would be much appreciated! I'm feeling a little off in my writing, and while this piece helped, I'm still a little unsure. Any criticism or suggestions would make my day!**


	2. Chapter 2

"I don't _get _it, Crocker. Why do I have to carry this thing?"

You glare at the red haired boy walking beside you and wave the ripped straps of your backpack at him. "_Because, _you're the idiot who broke it, numbnits. Hopefully this will teach you not to commandeer other peoples' things for a backpack wrecking ball. And Doc said you have to or you'll get ISS again." You look ahead. "And I _will _tell him if you don't."

Cal huffs but doesn't offer any more commentary. He grips your backpack in both arms, a top-heavy balance to the tiny one on his own back. You're surprised he even bothers to keep one around. He never goes to class.

"This is it." You point to your house. A pang of sympathy runs through you against your better judgment. It was quite a long walk from the school, and it's very hot. "Would you... Like to come in for a minute?" you grit out. "I could get you some lemonade." You know dad won't mind.

"Well aren't you just a proper southern lady," he grumbles. But his look isn't malicious when he nods at you. If this weren't Cal, you'd be sure he looked grateful. "Sure. I could go for some of that."

You nod and lead him up the driveway. When you reach the porch, you turn to tell Cal to leave the bag on the porch, but he's got a glint in his eye again.

"Catch, piggy!" He swings the pack at you and it collides with your chest. You're knocked clean off the porch, landing on your back in the grass.

Cal's laughter is cut off in a scream. You push your backpack off of you and scramble up to find Li'l Sebastian clobbering Cal.

"Shootfudgingchristonastickwhatisitgetitoff!"

"Little Sebastian!" you screech, using his full name to make him know you're serious. "Get off of Cal this instant!"

Your robot freezes, one hand still clenched in his shirt collar. He's got Cal pinned to the ground; no small feat considering he's six foot, bulky, and no stranger to fights.

You put your hands on your hips and tap your feet. The grass of your front lawn muffled the sound, but Seb follows the motion. "I mean it, buster. Now."

He still hesitates, looking between you, and you sigh. "Defense bot prototype: release."

Seb springs away from Cal and disappears in the blink of an eye. You offer a hand to him. "I am so sorry about that! He's never met you before, you see, and he's careful around strangers."

Cal grumbles but accepts your hand, dusting himself off. "What do have a- an attack rabbit-droid thing for anyway, Crocker?"

You grimace. "Well, he doesn't normally just jump people like that, I promise! But you did aggress me, so it really is your own fault. You'll remember what I told you about my family?"

"Yeah, your aunt's the cake lady."

"Right. Well, there are actually a surprising lot of people who dislike her, especially since the company's big expansion last year." You shuffle your feet, unable to look him in the eye. No matter how many times you have to explain this, it never gets easier. "And by extension, they don't... Like... Me."

"... So you got a rabbit to save your keister when you're in mortal peril?"

"Shut up," you snap, ready with a comeback. It's always like this, people don't understand, they always treat it like a stupid, stupid joke!

But when you look at Cal at last, he's not laughing. His eyes are searching for Seb. He gives a low whistle of appreciation when he sees the blur of shadow watching from a safe distance. "That's frickin' awesome! Not the people-trying-to-kill-you thing, but come on! It's like something out of a book."

You chuckle at that. "I... I guess it is. Like a mystery," you suggest.

"Or a time-traveling action movie!" he laughs. "Wish you'd told me you were this interesting before, Crocker."

"I've always been interesting," you retort. "Well, you seem to think so, anyway."

He raises his eyebrows at you and gives you a rare begrudging grin. "Heh. You're alright, Cr- Jane."

"You're pretty alright yourself, Cal." You smile. "See you tomorrow?"

He nods, backing slowly down your driveway. "Yeah. I'll call you?"

Your heart near stops in your chest before you find the air to make it beat again. "Sure."

"Great."

His cool exit is ruined when he has to come back and ask for your number, but it's a moment of laughter for the both of you.

You wander into the house and poke around. "Li'l Seb?" you call. "Come on out. It's okay now!"

A quick breeze stirs against the backs of your legs and you turn to find Seb hiding behind the couch, his pointy shades and ears the only parts of him visible. You frown. If he was really trying to hide from you, you'd never be able to see him. "Hey, little guy. What is it?" You walk over and get on your knees to look him in the eyes. He doesn't move. "Dirk? Do you have any idea what's wrong?"

After a moment Li'l Seb peeks out from behind the couch- you know he's reluctant, Dirk probably had to make him do it so you could read the message.

_TT: He thinks you're mad at him. _

"Why?" you wonder out loud. "Wait, not because of... Oh, Seb!" You scoop him into your arms. "Nonono, sweetie, I'm not mad! You were just doing what you thought was best to protect me, right?"

_TT: Um. _

You gape at the words as they start coming in rapid fire.

_TT: Look I know it's none of my business, but from Seb's sensors it looked like he was hurting you, ok? He probably knew better but I put in the command and I've been trying to calm him down for like 10 minutes so if you're gonna yell, yell at me. It's not his fault. _

"He's just a guy from school," you tell him, stroking Seb's back to calm him down. "He did something stupid with my backpack and a teacher made him carry it home for me." It's not like Dirk to be so rash… Although you have to admit, if your dad had seen Cal throw your bag at you like that he would have done the same thing. "Cal's actually pretty harmless, and nowhere near mature enough to know how to act," you continue, rolling your eyes. "But I suppose he's not all bad."

There's a pause before another message comes through.

_TT: Is that why you gave him your home number?_

Your cheeks burn. "You heard that?"

_TT: Seb's ears are good. Don't change the subject._

Well, that's embarrassing. You never wanted any of your friends to see you attempt to flirt. Which is not what you were doing, but who knows, you might have to someday. You'll have to remember that. "Goodness, Dirk. He's just a friend."

_TT: We don't like him, Jane._

It takes longer than it should for you to figure out that he's talking about both himself and Li'l Sebastian. You can almost understand it, but something about the way he words it makes you angry. What does that matter? Dirk is a thousand miles away from here. What say does he have in who you choose to befriend? "I'll take that into account, but to be honest I'm not sure I like your tone, mister. I'm sixteen years old. I can choose my own friends."

Seb starts shaking again and crawls out of your lap, forced to stay close enough for you to read his shades.

_TT: Are you serious__?_

_TT: The guy just called you fat and knocked you on your butt__. __That's not a friend, Jane. He's bad news._

"Well how would you know?" you shout. "Your friends are either half a world away or made of metal! Jiminy Christmas, just drop it!"

Seb finally gets the go-ahead to abscond, leaving you panting in the middle of the living room. You regret the words as soon as your brain catches up with your big mouth. You slump against the couch. That was a _terrible_ thing to say! DIrk has confided in you about how much he misses school and having friends his age. Dirk probably hates you now, and Seb is terrified. You're afraid that he won't come to you again if you call.

You crouch there until the phone rings on the table beside you. You reach up without looking and answer. "Crocker residence," you sigh, internally cursing when your breath hitches.

"Whoa. Crocker, you okay?" Cal's voice sounds different over the phone. It's softer, less obnoxious. "Hey, you there?"

You smile lightly and curl your hands around the receiver. "Y-Yeah. I'm fine. How are you doing?"


	3. Chapter 3

You clutch your tiny, ridiculous looking purse and look around anxiously. _Just a few more minutes_, you think. _He'll show. _

People are giving you looks ranging from confusion to concern to sympathy. Like they know just what you're doing outside a fancy restaurant, all dressed up with no one beside you.

As the last of the sunlight starts to fade away, you take out your phone to glance at the time. You have new Facebook notifications.

Your heart lurches when you see the picture a friend has tagged you in. There's your date, his arms around a scantily-clad brunette in what you recognize as the bar downtown. You've never been- you're only seventeen, you're not legal and neither is he- but you recognize it from photos. His laughing face is flushed with beer and his eyes are glazed. The friend from school wrote something in the comments but suddenly your phone is blurring in front of you.

Fine. It's not like you've been planning this dinner for weeks. It's not like you've been seeing Cal exclusively- or so you thought- for eight months. It's not like you've just been abandoned on the other side of town with your ride home draped over his new girlfriend.

Things are just _peachy_.

Some well meaning passerby asks if you're okay and you shake your head, tears starting to flow freely now. A handkerchief is pressed into your hand, and there's a comforting pat on your shoulder.

You sink into one of the tables lining the outside of the restaurant and bury your face in your hands. How stupid could you be! Thinking that Cal could have possibly changed at all since you first met him as a rude teenager who harassed you and called you fat and other terrible things- you laugh at your own optimism. _Jake_ is the one who's supposed to believe everything without question. This is why you're the cynic, to keep things like this from happening. All it took was a _smile_, and now look at you!

After you calm yourself down enough to use your phone, you rustle it back out of your purse. The flashing "charge" sign blinks back at you. You curse under your breath- you never keep a charger on you. What are you going to do now? You have no money, dad dropped you off a half hour ago with the expectation that you wouldn't be back until eleven, and you have no way of communication.

You bite your lip. Well, you do have _one_.

You wince. Since that argument, Seb has avoided you whenever possible. You haven't spoken to Dirk at all except to exchange birthday wishes. You always have the device on you though, no matter what. You promised him.

The remote is even tinier than you remember it. It only has one little paw shaped button on it. You brush your thumb over it hesitantly. Dirk's had Seb under remote reprogramming for a week. And you've never used the homing device- Dirk always said it was for emergencies.

Well gosh darn it, you're alone and sad and beginning to get frightened. This _is_ an emergency. You push the orange button and a soft, familiar beep is emitted from the remote.

You wait, not knowing exactly what's going to happen. Five minutes pass, then ten, and you start to crumble a little again. Darkness is falling around you and now it's getting cold. This has just been the worst day! The tears don't come back when you lay your head in your arms, and you're grateful, but your head is feeling the force of your sobs. You just want to go home.

_Beep. _

You jerk upright, wiping your eyes. "L-Li'l Sebastian?"

The rabbit pulls an acrobatic pirouette up into the table, holding a hand behind his back. A blinking cursor appears as his shades flicker to life.

_TT: I saw. _

You dig at your eyes with the heels of your hands. "You were right," you laugh. "Cal is..." Words fail you for the utter douchebaggery.

_TT: An insufferable prick?_

A snort claws its way from your mouth. You're sitting at a café table talking to a robotic rabbit about your love life. People give you a wide berth. "Just so. How did Seb know where to go?"

_TT: GPS in the homing device. He's got Bro's credit card ID'd in his wrist if you wanna call a cab. _

You consider it. Actually, you're starving. "Do you think Dave would mind terribly if I bummed some dinner off of him?"

_TT: Not at all. Especially not today. _

A command sequence goes through with another beep and Li'l Sebastian steps toward you on the table. He's shuffling, like a little kid. He extends his arm and you're overwhelmed by a tiny fistful of bluebells.

_TT: Happy Valentine's Day, Janey. From both of us. _

"Dirk... Oh, Seb!" You pull the rabbit onto your lap and hug him tight. "How did you program him to find my favorites?"

_TT: I didn't. His AI's improved a lot. It was his idea. Dude's smooth. Wait. Hold on. I've got another present. _

Li'l Seb stills in your lap for a moment before standing and reaching up for your shoulders. He looks straight into your eyes.

**I'm sorry, Jane.**

You gasp, gripping the table do hard you feel one of your nails chip. "Seb?"

**I'm sorry he made you sad. Are you okay now?**

"Y-Yes, I'm fine. Because of you and Dirk." You nuzzle the little guy. "Thank you very much for my flowers, Seb. They're beautiful."

The temperature of the metal inches up a few degrees and you hear his cooling fan whir. **You're welcome. **

"How long have you been able to send me messages?" you ask him.

**Since approx. 3:02 this morning, **comes the response.** Dirk let me. I like talking to you, Jane. **

Your heart melts and you crush him to your chest again. He's a machine. But while you'd only been able to guess at his childish personality from his actions, you'd never have guessed how his words would affect you, especially after so long apart. He's a machine, but he's also a child.

"Thank you," you whisper. His ears twitch and you know Dirk heard. Li'l Seb backflips off of your lap and bows.

**It seems I have a command waiting. May I escort the lady to dinner?**

You giggle and take his tiny hand. His legs extend so you don't have to crouch. "You may, good sir."

When Cal comes groveling to your house in the morning, hung-over and with a crumpled bouquet of roses meant for the night before, you have to hold back Seb long enough for your dad to answer the door and knock him out right on the porch.

His ears droop. **I wanted to do that.**

"Next time," you chuckle. "I promise."


	4. Chapter 4

**Where are we going?**

You glance up to catch the words before they fade. Your suitcase is almost packed but it's going to be a right fit. "I'm not sure, little guy. Dad said it's a surprise."

**I don't like this.** Seb crosses his little arms.** I want to know where we're going. **

"Why?"

His cooling fan whirs in frustration.** Landmarks. Blueprints. Exit routes. Possible threats. Probability of natural disaster. Rate of-**

"Oh, stop that! You'll get me all worried over nothing." You take a break from squashing your clothes into your luggage and sit on the bed, patting between Seb's ears. "Don't worry, we'll be perfectly fine."

He looks up at you with an expression that has no right to look so offended.

**But it's our job to worry. **

Oh dear. You sigh and flop back on the bed. "You are Dirk's creation, that much is plain to see. Will you feel better if you have a general area?"

**Yes!**

"Dad!" You throw back your head and yell.

"Yes, sweetheart!" he bellows back.

"Seb won't let us leave unless you tell him where we're going!"

"Little Sebastian! Front and center!" your father roars.

Seb flashes downstairs.

You sigh again and get back to work. Clothes for three days, check. Toiletries, check. Seb's homing device is set aside for carry on travel, as always. You press a final addition on top of the pile and somehow manage to squeeze it all together and do up the zipper. There.

You really do wonder where you're going. Seb won't tell you if dad asks him to keep it a surprise. Oh, well. You'll find out in a few hours, you suppose.

"We're going to Texas?" you ask, confused. You hand your ticket to the airline attendant and follow your dad up the gangway. Seb waves at a little kid from his seat in your carryon bag.

"Just a layover, sweet pea."

"Gracious, dad! Where are we GOING?"

He turns and tips his hat at you with a wink. "You'll see. You'll love it. Won't she, Sebastian?"

Seb beeps. Smug little thing.

It isn't until hours later, when you're loopy from jet lag and lack of sleep, that you realize exactly what's going on.

"Dad!" You grab his sleeve in the back seat of the taxi. He jerks awake, mumbling. "We're going to the convention, aren't we?"

Your dad smiles and ruffles your hair. He never stopped doing that, even though you turned eighteen last month. "I knew you would figure it out."

"Thank you so much!" You hug him and squirm in your seat, delighted.

**What do you do at the convention, Jane? Dad only gave me the location. **

"Well, it's the national baking convention," you explain. "I'm not participating, but it's a great place to find recipes, compare kitchen supplies, and meet other baking enthusiasts!" You shake your head. "I didn't think we would get to go, but I'm so glad we are!"

**Will there be cake? **You know Sebastian can't actually eat cake, but the question is so human that you wish he could. Perhaps you'll work with Dirk on a way to give Seb a sense of smell? Or some flavored oil for him to drink.

"There will be so much cake not even a thousand people will be able to eat it all!"

He goes into a semi-contained frenzy in your lap, flashing the message **Cake! **over and over again.

You try to restrain him enough to catch a glimpse of the sights through your window. The cab passes the Washington Monument, what looks like the Capitol building, and a large, wacky-looking metal structure made of three spires that arch for the sky.

"What is that?" You point to the edifice and the cab driver catches your eyes in the mirror.

"That's new," he grunts. "Some crazy politicians put it up as some sort of campaign."

"I see," you say, although you have no idea what kind of campaign that could be. The election craze is starting up, you guess. There's talk of a dual candidacy brewing in the gossip blogs. It'll never go through.

You pull up to your hotel and make your way inside. The front entrance gave you pause, but the lobby has you frozen in your shoes with your mouth gaping.

It's a spectacular hotel, with mahogany whatsits and satin doodahs everywhere. There's an honest to goodness crystal chandelier hanging right above your head.

If the floor would open up and swallow your old t-shirt and khaki pants, you would be relieved.

Seb pokes you in the side and points to the front desk, where your dad is talking quietly to the manager. As you catch up, you only hear the name "Constance" before the manager hands your dad a sleeve of key cards and rings for a bellhop.

"Dad, how are we affording this?" you hiss. The bellhop pretends not to hear, and you're grateful.

"It's no issue," he insists. "Your Aunt Constance arranged this for us." He grimaces. "I'll admit I may have taken advantage of her generosity in return for furthering your interest in the culinary arts, but I knew how much you've wanted to come, and I just couldn't refuse her offer."

The three of you step into the elevator with the luggage cart and the bellhop inserts a keycard into a slot in the wall before pressing the topmost button. Your head swims. You're not just in a fancy hotel, but in the _penthouse?_

You're given one more test to make sure this isn't all some sort of mistake. Dad tips the bellhop and unlocks the door with his own key. It opens with a click.

To call the area beyond a "room" would be a gross understatement. "Rooms" would be more appropriate. Beyond the wide circle of plush sofas in the main room you see a full kitchen, and in other directions you see through open doors to no less than three different bedrooms.

You frown. There's no need for this much space for the two of you. "Is Aunt Constance staying here with us?"

"Goodness, no." Dad is already unpacking, lugging his suitcase to the nearest room. "Did I forget to tell you? She moved to DC a few months ago. It's very hush hush in the press, mind you, so try to keep mum."

"Got it," you say, dazed. "Oh, here, Seb. You can go exploring, but be careful." You lift Li'l Sebastian out of your bag and set him on the floor. In a flash he's circled the room, inspecting the furniture and finding some suitable hiding places.

You leave him to it and go to the second room with your luggage. You set it on the bed and open the bedside drawer, hoping to put away your concealed weapon. Before you can reach for your CrockerCorp brand spoon, you spot something next to the standard Bible. Is that...

You pull out the bottle and squint at the label. It's a preposterously expensive bottle of champagne. Another glance around the room shows you what you had missed before- the skewed pillows, the pink sneakers thrown to the corner of the room, and the faintest sound of a fan going.

Someone else had been in the room, and recently.

"Dad?" you call out. He doesn't answer. "Hello?"

You grip the handle of your soon and freeze when you hear a creak from the closet behind you.

Holding your breath, you slowly tiptoe toward the closet. You grip the wooden knob, give your best scream, and throw it open-

Only to be tackled by three people and whisked into a dog pile on the bed. Through the elbows and hair you see familiar faces and you scream again, but this time in shock and delight.

"Jake! Roxy! Dirk!" You laugh, trying to hug everyone at once from your tangled up vantage point. "You little heathens!"

"Surpriiiiise, Janey!" Roxy slurs, chortling. "Got you good, little miss master prankster." She smothers you in a hug and nuzzles your neck like a cat. You have to spit blond hair from your mouth but you couldn't be happier about it.

Jake is too busy laughing to form more than a few sentences. "Holy-! Jane, if you had seen your face! Oho, so priceless! And the spoon? What were you going to do, feed us ice cream? Ahahaha!" He's filled out a lot since the last time you were able to web chat. The jungles have been kind to his physique and complexion.

Dirk's greeting is quieter, just a firm squeeze to your shoulder. You smile at him through the tears you're surprised to find on your glasses. All four of you together... You never imagined it would happen. This is officially the best day of your young life.

"You guys," you hiccup. "I can't believe it. What are you all doing here?"

The laughter tapers off into confused silence. They all untangle and sit facing you on the bed.

"What are you talking about?" Roxy demands. "_You _invited us. To spend the weekend sightseeing while you went to that convention."

You lean back on your hands and shake your head. "I didn't know we were even going to the convention until about an hour ago. It was a surprise from dad and Aunt Constance."

The three of them reel back from you, Roxy tumbling from her perch with a squawk. Her head pops back up with wide eyes. "The _Batterwitch?_ She's _here?"_

Dirk is muttering under his breath, scrolling through his emails on his phone. You see snatches of conversation in your signature sky blue that he's slowly realizing were never shared with you. He curses and snaps his fingers, summoning Li'l Sebastian with a leap and a bound. "We need escape routes, _now."_

**Laundry chute down the hall leads to bins in the basement, door out to the street. **

"Good boy." Dirk fishes Seb's remote from your bag and presses it into your hand. Behind his shades his eyes are dead serious. "Jane, we have to go."

You're wrenched back to when you were both thirteen, when he looked at you exactly like this all earnestness and unyielding authority. The fear rushes back. "Dad," you manage to say. You're not forgetting about him this time.

"I got dibs on Papa Crocker," Roxy blusters, nervous under her joking words. Dirk nods to her and she's out the door, quickly explaining the situation to your dad.

Dirk and Jake usher you out of the room and down the hall. You hear your dad huffing behind you to catch up. "Guys, what's the big deal? It's just Aunt Constance!"

"Oh, criminy," Jake groans. You round a corner and he has to jump over a tray someone left in the hall. "Dirk, do you want to take this moment to be the one to tell Jane that her aunt is a raging psychopath?"

"Later." Dirk flings open the door to the laundry room, startling a few maids. "Excuse us, ladies," he deadpans, pushing you past them to the chute. "We'll be out of your way in just a minute."

Jake lifts the lid to the chute and offers his hand to help you in. "Alright, Janey, down we go. That's a girl."

You dig in your heels, beseeching someone, _anyone _to say something rational. "Jake, I am _not-"_

"Staying here a second longer? My thoughts exactly." Dirk picks you up from behind and sends you screaming down the burnished metal chute.

Seb's shades are the only light as you slide almost vertically down toward the ground. The walls slant, however, leveling off before depositing the both of you into a huge linen basket. A shout of "cauabunga!" gives you just enough warning to scramble out of the way and let the others follow you out.

You clamber into the basement, a loud, darkened room with no windows and row upon row of washing machines.

Dad is the last one out, looking a little dazed. "Jane? Why did I just slide down a laundry chute?"

"I don't know," you admit.

"I promise, girl, we'll get you the deets later," Roxy says, pulling you along. She's scanning the dim laundry room, looking for the exit Seb had talked about. "But we gotta get you outta here before-"

"Before what, may I ask?"

Your friends' reactions are instantaneous. Roxy whirls and pushes you behind her. Jake materializes dual flintlock pistols out of thin air. Dirk draws his sword and barks an order at Seb. They form a protective barrier around you, pressing close on all sides.

Your dad is the only one who isn't fast enough. He's grabbed by two familiar looking men and spirited away out the door- _there's _the stupid thing- and out of sight.

"Dad!" You scream and try to run after him, but Roxy wraps both arms around you and squeezes.

"It's what she wants," she whispers in your ear. "She wants you to fight. I'm sorry, Jane."

Then you see her, leaning against one of the bins and flanked by three shadowy figures. "Aunt Constance?" you gasp. "What-? Why are you doing this?"

Your aunt detaches herself from the wall and stalks closer to you. Li'l Sebastian draws his sword and takes up a stance in front of you. She regards your guard with a sneer. "I did give you a choice, Jane, dear. You could have had a place in my empire. I would have made you a princess."

You shrink back from her as her companions join her. The first two you don't recognize. They're dressed like rappers and have faces covered in paint. The third is Guy Fieri. You never did like his show, anyway. "I don't understand, Aunt Constance. Why did you bring them all here?"

"She wanted us together," Dirk growls. "Just like when we were kids."

"Good, little Strider," she coos. "Such a shame you're so intelligent. You would have made a fine pet." She shakes her head pityingly. "You all would have- you and your guardians. But they'll be joining your grandmother soon enough, Mr. English."

Jake stiffens. You reach out and grip the tail of his shirt. So it wasn't an animal that killed his grandma.

Aunt Constance grins a blinding politician's smile. "I invited you all here to help celebrate my, ah, _associates' _Presidential candidacy."

Jake snorts, and you can't believe how brave he is. Or maybe he'd already known. "What are you gonna do, _witch? _Put everyone to sleep with their god-awful music?"

For an instant, it's back- the malice and hatred you saw all those years ago in your home, after she sent the men who took your dad to kill Dirk. Looking around, you see the feeling reciprocated in your friends. What has she done to them? What has she been doing to them right under your nose?

You pry Roxy's arms off of you and reach into the deep pocket of your pants. The bright red spoon never looked quite right in your hands, but it's all you've got. Roxy gives an appreciative oath as it expands into the setting you hoped you would never have to use- your Fraymotif. If Aunt Constance- no, if the _witch _has been hurting and threatening your friends, you have a feeling you're going to need it.

You swear you can see galaxies reflected in the gaze she fixes on the four of you as she looms ever closer. It's hungry and dominant, and seems capable of devouring the whole world. "Children," Constance croons. "Are you ready to play a game?"


	5. A Short Note

I'm so sorry to those of you who reviewed and expressed interest in "the rest of the story," but there just isn't a "rest." After seeing those reviews, I realized that I completely forgot to mark this story as complete. It was never meant to extend into a full-on war scenario, merely a few anecdotes preceding how a human Condesce would go about taking over the world. Not to completely shoot down the possibility that I might return to this eventually, but for now this is a standalone piece. Again, I'm sorry for the confusion.

Signed,

Ashley (that's me)


End file.
